A Day Out
by Musicismyblood
Summary: Future!fic. One-shot. Kurt and Blaine live in New York and New Directions, and Wes and David, get together for a day in NYC. Fun ensues.


**Hey, this is my first Glee fic so...sorry if it's kind of...bad? Oh, and can you tell me if they're OOC or if their conversations got kinda rambly and long? Thanks!**

**I have included infraredphaeton's Harry and Pratik because I can. Oh, and I refuse to use canon!Cooper. My headcanon!Cooper is what sticks. (And I refuse to use canon!Cooper because he's a douchebag.) Also, I'm incapable of Santana anything _but_ pervy so...we'll see how that goes. Cooper too.**

* * *

Kurt sighs, looking around for Blaine. Dear lord, where was that man now? He _knew_ he should have driven Blaine too, he thinks, crossing his legs primly on the bench. But noooooo, Blaine just _had_ to run to the store because he ran out of gel. He didn't even need the gel! His hair was adorable. After you got out the frizz.

Honestly, Blaine hadn't changed _at all_ from Dalton to now. He seemed dapper and composed to the other Dalton boys (and New Directions), gelling his hair into a ridiculous fashion (really, it looked so much better when it wasn't gelled to hell) and looking so _professional_ with his school ties and uniforms. The reality? Blaine was-_is_-clumsy, clueless boy with a tendancy to be ten minutes late to everything, even at twenty-four. It really shouldn't be endearing, but it appeals to Kurt in every way possible.

Kurt watches as a little Hispanic boy pulls his father toward the swings just in front of Kurt's bench, giggling a little.

"Push me very high, Daddy! Very high!" he yells, laughing.

"Very high?" his father teases.

"Very high!" the boy screeches.

Kurt watchs, and a bolt of longing blindsides him. Even at the age of four, he would always pick his way through the mulch, careful not to soil his nice dress shoes. His mother, Mollie, would always nod somewhat seriously at his explanation of why he wasn't running around before she'd flash him her brilliant smile and plop him on the swings, saying it wouldn't dirty his shoes. God, he loved her so much. She understood him when no one else did, which was most of the time. She held him, comforted him, sang to him, _loved_ him. He still misses her ferociously (so, _so_ bad) and _damn_ if she wasn't the best thing that had happened to this earth.

Kurt is jolted out of his musing when the small boy screeches again, running off toward the other side of the playground, where there is an elaborate setting of slides and playground equipment connecting it all, leaving his father wiping his gray hair.

Kurt observes the playground, seeing kids littering it everywhere, obscuring the primary colored play set. He wrinkles his nose; would it have killed the painters to put a little more _color_ into this?

A little girl, clad in a striped sundress runs to the swings, the little Hispanic boy right behind her.

The little girl rushes onto the last remaining swing and the little boy motions to push her off.

"Cody!" the boy-Cody's-father reprimands. "Ladies first, Cody. Always ladies first."

"A gentleman in the making," Kurt hears murmured in his ear.

He jumps a little, before turning around to see Blaine, grinning at him.

"Hey," he says, sliding into the space next to Kurt. Kurt cups Blaine's face in his hands, leaning in for a kiss. He loves New York for that. He can kiss his boyfriend on the street, and no one's going to even _blink_.

"Hey," Kurt says back, failing to mask the breathlessness in his voice.

"What'cha doin'?"

He shrugs, "People watching."

Blaine grunts in response, his beautiful hazel eyes scanning the crowd.

"I haven't seen anyone yet." Kurt reports.

Blaine mockingly raises an eyebrow, gesturing toward the playground, which is anything _but_ deserted.

Kurt whacks his arm. "You know what I mean! Don't be a smart ass."

Blaine leans in, closer to his face. "But I'm your smart ass," he murmurs, right against Kurt's lips. Kurt feels his heart beat faster and his stomach flutter. Seven years in, and Blaine can still make him blush and turn his stomach with butterflies with his ridiculously romantic gestures.

"Guys!" An obnoxiously loud voice (thankfully) lowers his voice. "Stop trying to turn us gay with your damned adorableness!"

Blaine doesn't even bother to mask the annoyance on his face when he turns around. "Wevid." he acknowledges.

They slide in next to Blaine, Wes after David.

"I told you to stop calling us that," Wes scowls. "Makes us sound like we're together."

"Soon as you stop calling us Klaine!" Kurt practically sings.

Blaine rolls his eyes, "Besides, we might as well stick your names together. You two are the most co-dependent people we know. It's almost scary."

In unison, they stick out their tongues. "You're just mad because we totally stopped you from getting some." David observes.

Blaine pushes David, making Wes fall off the seat. "Get out of here."

Instinctively, the two 25-year-olds recite, "Haters gonna hate." David looks down at Wes, high-fiving him.

"You know," Kurt taps his chin thoughtfully. "I know you two are _twenty_-five, but sometimes, it's seems like you're just five."

"And in the closet." Santana's voice rings out.

The four turn around to see Santana and Brittany, both grinning (though Santana's is a bit more...suggestive, as it tends to be a lot of the time).

"Porcelain, Frodo." Santana acknowledges before going back to the grumbling Asian.

"Shut up." Wes grumbles.

"I sense no denial!" Santana cackles gleefully. For a moment, Kurt loses himself in a weird, humorous daydream where Santana is a cartoon villain, rubbing her hands together and smiling sadistically at a cowering and terrified Wes.

It's an incredibly odd daydream, so he's glad when Wes and Santana's banter interrupts him. "What?" Wes squawks. "I _so_ denied that!"

Brittany smiles fondly at Santana before rushing over to Kurt and Blaine, grabbing them both in a bone-crushing hug.

"Hi!" she squeals. "I missed my dolphins!"

"Nice to see you too, Britt." Blaine chokes out.

"It'd be so nice...if you...stopped...choking us." Kurt gasps out.

Brittany releases them instantly. "Did I hurt my dolphins?" she asks worriedly. "Or the baby?"

Blaine chokes again.

Kurt makes a little sound in the back of his throat that he can't even place.

"Excuse me?" he sputters. Man, Brittany said a lot of weird things but...really? Was she serious?

"Well, Santana was driving us here and she wanted to talk about something other than dolphins and our new octopuses-"

"Octopi!" David calls.

"Octopuses," Brittany repeats stubbornly. "And Lord Tubbington-"

"Oh yeah, how's he doing?" Blaine interrupts.

Brittany claps her hands delightedly. "He has little kitties!"

Kurt blinks. "Santana knows about these kittens?"

Brittany beams. "Yup!"

"And...she doesn't say degrading things about them?"

"No, she didn't give them an F..."

Blaine only looks somewhat confused, used to deciphering Brittany's sayings. "Huh. Love really changes people."

"Can we get back to the topic?" Kurt says, a little irritably.

"Oh, right." Blaine has the decency to look sheepish. "Sorry, baby."

Brittany, muttering about goodness knows what, snaps back into reality. "Baby! Right! Well, I asked Santana since dolphins just eat, swim, and make babies, would you have babies? She said yes."

"Brittany," Kurt says hesitantly. "You do know we can't make babies, right? It's not possible."

She claps her hands over her ears. "You're lying! Dolphins are just gay sharks and sharks can make babies and dolphins can make babies, so you're. Lying!" she squeals.

"Okay, okay." Blaine says calmly. "We take it back. Gay babies can be made. Happy?"

She nods.

"But seriously, Brittany. What the fuck?"

"We've corrupted you. You used to save swearing for when you were angry."

He jumps violently, turning around to face and punch a grinning Puck, hissing. "Puck! You can't just scare me like that!"

He shrugs, rubbing his shoulder. "Whatever. Can we babysit this so-called baby?"

"Okay, first, what do you think we are? Idiots? The baby wouldn't last an hour with you people as babysitters. Second, weren't you bringing Finn?" Kurt asks, peering over Puck's shoulder.

"Offensive, Hummel. Hudson left to go to the bathroom after hearing about you two getting it on."

Both Blaine and Kurt flush a deep red.

Puck snickers. "Your faces."

Santana saunteres over, annoyed. "Quick! Frodo! How do I get them to admit their undying love for each other?"

Kurt hears Blaine snort on his right and say in a tone very reminiscent of Kurt's own 'bitch, please' voice, "Please, Santana. They're so far in the closet they're in freaking Narnia."

Santana narrows her eyes, as if she can extract the answer from him through sheer willpower.

Rachel struts next to Puck, pecking him on the lips before hugging Kurt.

"Finally. Did you finish doing whatever makeup crap you had to put on?" Puck rolls his eyes fondly.

Instead of launching into one of her trademark Rachel Berry lectures, she just smiles equally as fondly at him.

"You've changed." Blaine remarks.

"Haven't gotten any taller tough." Kurt says, continuing their rather critic-ish exam.

Rachel's 'hmph!' of indignation is drowned out by a sleek black mustang roaring into the parking lot, out of place next to the minivans, parking next to Puck's old pickup truck. A glossy black Honda rolls right behind it.

"There's Sam and Mercedes. And Mike and Tina."

"Hey, Finn. You're back." Kurt turns to look at his step-brother. Finn flashes him a quick peace sign.

"I'm hungry." Finn says bluntly, as soon as the last four from their old high school group converge into their little group huddled around and on the bench.

Puck immediately shoots up, "Me too!" He doesn't even wait to see if anyone is following before practically rocketing off to his old pickup truck. Finn chases after him, vaulting into the back end of Puck's stereotypical beat-up truck.

"How do they have so much energy?" Blaine murmurs.

Rachel rolls her eyes, disgusted. "Tell me about it. They spent all of last night playing Halo."

"They still do that?" Kurt asks incredulously.

Rachel throws her hands up, going into full rant mode. "Are you kidding me? They do it every chance they get-"-Santana sneaks in a quiet "That's what she said."-"-and you'd think they'd get tired of beating the game, right? But nooooo, they don't! I couldn't get my beauty sleep last night and rest my voice because of the stupid shouting they were doing!"

Everyone nods faux-sympathetically as Kurt, horrified, clasps Rachel's hands in his own. "You didn't get enough sleep? Do you know how bad that's for your skin?" His normally breathy voice goes up a bit more, and Blaine feels the corners of his mouth tug up. Kurt's beautiful blue-green-gray eyes widen as he rambles agitatedly to Rachel, the words spilling effortlessly from his pale pink lips-

-A loud honk from Puck's car stops Kurt's rant mid-sentence, turning everyone's heads.

"Yo!" Puck calls, sticking his head out the window. "We goin' to fucking eat, or what?"

Wes and David, geez, those two were inseparable, weren't they?, scramble up, Wes tripping over David's long limbs, making David trip over Wes. Kurt make an undignified snorting sound watching them.

Blaine turns to look at Kurt with his soulful hazel eyes opened wide. Kurt nearly groans. That only happens when Blaine wants him to do something he really doesn't want to do. It usually works.

"We can't leave them with Puck and Finn." Blaine says.

"That'd be bad," Kurt agrees.

"We'd be terrible people."

"No, no. The one time we were terrible people to them was when we-"

Blaine claps a hand over his mouth, hissing, "We're in public!"

Mercedes cackles softly, "Get some, boy." Sam rolls his eyes, but doesn't say anything, used to her antics.

Santana looks at them, a gleam in her eye. "Guys, that's freaking wanky."

"Don't seem too grossed out, do you?"

"It's Santana, Blaine. 'Course she's not grossed out." Kurt rolls his eyes.

"We're riding in the truck, to make sure no corruption happens." Blaine says firmly, dragging Kurt by the hand.

"What?" Kurt screeches, startled. He shudders at the thought of being in the hell pit of all that crazy.

Santana follows them, "Well, I'm not missing this."

Brittany trails after Santana, looking confused. "Where are we going?"

"To eat, Brittany." Santana sooths.

"But-but, my hair!"

"Sweetie, you know how to fix your hair in your sleep."

"The car?" Kurt demands.

"We'll make Puck drive back," Blaine says simply.

Kurt almost slumps in defeat; once Blaine sets his mind to something, there's nothing Kurt can do to stop him. It probably helps that Kurt can't resist Blaine anything.

Somehow, they manage to fit Finn, Santana, Brittany, Mike, Tina, Kurt and Blaine, and Wes and David into the back without having anyone falling out the back (Mercedes and Sam wisely decided to take their car). The rest of the ride is spent with Santana trying to cajole Wes and David into admitting their love for each other, because "It's a close bromance!" is way too suspicious to not be suspicious, Finn clamping his ears shut and singing the alphabet song loudly when Santana occasionally drops a perverted comment about Kurt and Blaine, the latter two blushing and denying when it happened (even though it was probably totally true), and Brittany snuggling against Santana, taping it all. Mike and Tina have a very heated discussion that everyone listened in on for a riveting thirty seconds before they switched over to Chinese. Occasionally, they take turns rapping on the glass between them and Puck and Rachel and blame it on crows (which didn't even make _sense),_ just to annoy the crap out of them.

They end up going to three different restaurants, because Brittany refuses to eat anywhere they cut up cows to make meat. Santana glares viciously at anyone who opens their mouth to say otherwise. They finally end up going to a nice Asian restaurant that looks somewhat deserted if the lack of cars say anything, which is weird, because this is _New York_, and _nowhere_ is empty.

They actually need to put two tables together in the smaller alcove beside the main serving area, getting the room all to themselves to fit all thirteen people. And because New Directions (and Wes and David) have never been good at subtle and quiet, they end up being pretty loud in the dimly lighted ballroom-sized restaurant with its chandeliers that are very reminiscent of Dalton, but no one really cares and they aren't kicked out by the staff, so they figure it's all good.

Once all the scraping of tables on floor and chair arranging is done, they're really a huge mismatched hodgepodge of a family. Puck and Rachel sit at the head of the table, because Rachel will settle for nothing less, and Puck is dragged along with no say for himself. Finn has Puck on his left and Brittany on his right. Brittany won't eat without Santana beside her so Santana's there on her right, and has Wes and David on her right, leaving poor Wes to deal with doubting questions to his sexuality. In front of them are Kurt and Blaine, to which Wes pretends to puke at every time they do something sickening sweet. Mercedes is next to Kurt with Sam parked at her side, having an indepth conversation with Mike at his side, bringing them into a full circle ending up with Tina next to Rachel.

Strangely, Blaine chooses to stand instead of sitting in the empty chair. Of course, with his hobbit height, it wouldn't really show to the regular passerbyer.

Finn's not the brightest crayon in the box, but Blaine's been dating his not-quite-a-step-brother (mostly a full 'brother' brother at this point) for seven years and he's learned the height difference between Blaine sitting and Blaine standing. "Hey, Blaine. Chair's right there. Take a seat."

For some reason, Blaine blushes as Kurt resists the urge to drop his head onto the table, hiding his flaming face behind the giant, book-like menu.

"Uhhhh..." Blaine stutters, which gets everyone looking up, because Mr. Suave and Dapper does _not_ stutter. "Well..."

"Spill!" Santana snaps irritably. "Some of us would like to eat!"

"I'd rather stand." he whispers, red slowly creeping up his neck

Puck waggles his eyebrows, a suggestive smirk on his face.

Santana has mirth tainted with evil on her face, and spreads her arms toward Kurt and Blaine, as if for a hug, saying, "Congratulations! I didn't think you had it in you, but you lady-boys have become men! Mommy's very proud."

Kurt actually drops his face onto the table, and Mercedes wordlessly tugs him up, smirking just the slightest.

He glares, the effect belied by the spots of red high on his cheeks. Mercedes smiles innocently.

"Mercedes!" he whines. "You're supposed to be on _my_ side!" Mercedes breaks down into giggles.

And, because it's Santana and she _lives_ to make awkward conversations worse, she stops, arches an eyebrow, and asks, "Wait, top, Porcelain?"

Blaine looks like he wants the earth to open up and swallow him up whole, and Kurt doesn't blame him one bit, because he wants the exact same thing.

Finn has fished earplugs from his back pockets and stuffed them in his ears, because he tries not to think about his brother doing...that, and this is coming dangerously close to ruining all that hard work.

Puck fist bumps Santana before turning to Finn, puzzled where he got the earplugs. He questions him loudly over the demanding interrogation Santana's doing.

Finally, Kurt slams his palm against the table, rattling the forks and Chinese teacups. Mike makes a small sound of protest before being quickly shushed by Tina.

"I refuse to talk to you people about my sex life." he says stiffly, hoping his face isn't still as red as the freaking Wendy's girl's hair.

"Ah, but there is a sex life to not be discussing?" Santana asks, raising an eyebrow salaciously.

Kurt looks at her and sees that she's not even _trying_ to hide the absolutely _shit-eating_ grin on her face. He growls, irritated. Like, actually makes the low rumbling noise in the back of his throat.

"Oh, is that what you do when Blaine's-" The rest of the sentence is drowned out by David, who falls out from his chair, laughing. Wes peers from his seat at his best friend and holds out a hand, still letting out chuckles.

David barely pauses in his way too hysterical laughter and pulls Wes onto the floor. He falls with an undignified yelp, hitting David smack in the stomach.

"Blaine, honey, sit down." Kurt tugs on Blaine's sleeve, and he looks down at him with a helpless why-are-you-doing-this-to-me expression but sits down nonetheless. No one misses the way he flinches as he sits.

"Kurt!" Blaine whines. "I thought you loved me! Why do you make me put up with them?"

"Same reason I had to put up with Wes and David in high school."

"Welcome to-Blaine?" Their waiter stops short after seeing Blaine, looking like a mix of incredulous and amused.

Blaine groans, dropping his head onto the table, saved a painful bumping by his folded arms. "Dammit. Not him." he says, muffled.

Rachel, who hates not knowing, asks, "'Not him' who?"

When he doesn't respond, except to make a quip about how that sounded like a bad knock-knock joke, she turns to Kurt who's...also in a state of horrified shock.

Everyone is even more confused when the waiter goes up to Kurt and Blaine, clapping them on the back and greeting them loudly. Except Santana, who barely spares a glance at the guy, filing her nails with a nail buffer from her purse.

"Go away, Cooper." Blaine groans.

Cooper grins even more instead.

Kurt pinches* the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

_Great_, he thinks. _Well, it can't get much worse._

It gets worse.

Puck's eyebrows are knit together. "Who's...?"

Finn makes a strangled noise and hurriedly shoves the earplugs back in his ears.

"Dude," Puck says, "What's your damn problem?"

Cooper's lips quirk up, and he slings his arm around Puck's shoulders.

"Get your fucking hands off me," he says through his gritted teeth. Like most people, Puck doesn't take kindly to random strangers acting very buddy-buddy with him.

"Puck," Blaine sighs, "Meet Cooper, my brother. Cooper, Puck."

Everyone-except Wes and David, who already know him-studies Cooper. He and Blaine look to alike to not be related, with the same hair, nose, and eyes (though Cooper's are greener than Blaine's), so they just shrug and accept it.

"Cooper," Blaine says tiredly, "Why are you here?"

Cooper shrugs, "I texted you. Got fired from my last job. Even told you guys I'd be working here."

Kurt slaps his hand against his forehead. "Goddamn, I'm so stupid. I got that text and forgot."

"Oh my god, _why_, Kurt?"

Santana leans forward, "You're his brother?"

"Mhm. Now, what was that about Blaine's-"

"Cooper!" Blaine yelps.

He grins widely, leaning in conspiratorially towards Santana. "First time I met Kurt, he and Blaine were-"

A sound of protest from Blaine and he breaks off, looking expectantly at him. "Yes, Blaine? You wanna tell this story?"

"Not at all," he sniffs. "And for the record, it was the first three times."

"Four," Kurt interjects.

"They dirtied almost all my furniture when they were living with me." Quite suddenly, in a mood swing, Cooper turns to Kurt and Blaine, giving them the evil eye. "I had to take them to the laundromat, the one that that family runs. Their grandma? Gave me the creepiest look every time I brought her shit that you guys destroyed."

"God, Cooper! Don't say things like that in front of them!" Blaine gestures wildly at (the former) New Directions.

Santana has a grin that disturbingly resembles the Cheshire Cat. "Really? I have a feeling you and I are going to get along."

Their two victims look horrified at the thought. "No!" Blaine says in a strangled voice. "Don't do that to us!" He takes this as an excuse to stand up, slamming his hands down onto the table, as he almost sighs in relief.

Cooper doesn't say anything, just eyes him knowingly, making Blaine blush.

"Shut up!"

"Nothing was said, nothing was implied!" he cackles.

Blaine's phone beeps, signifying a text.

**Harry**: Concert ended early. Where are you guys? Pratik's confusing the taxi driver, trying to give directions with random songs lyrics. Again.

**Pratik**: Am not!

Blaine's brow furrows as he chuckles, if that's even possible.

**Blaine**: Are you guys texting from the same phone? Asian restaurant. Next to Olive Garden.

**Harry**: No.

**Pratik**: Sorta. On our way.

"Pratik's concert ended early. They're on their way." he reports.

"Wonderful. Make them make them," he gestures at everyone at the table. "Stop bothering us."

Suddenly, over Kurt's shoulder. "Hi."

He jumps violently, hitting Harry's chin with his shoulder. Harry sucks in a curse word or two, holding his chin as Pratik pats his back, giggling.

"Can we get some food?" Puck whines.

"Blaine's brother," Brittany asks. "Does the dim sun have sun in it?"

Cooper opens his mouth, then closes it at Santana's vicious glare, quite clearing saying that he should humor her. He sighs, "Yes, the dim sun has sun in it."

"Yay!" she cheers. "I'll have that!"

"Same," Mike says, raising a hand.

Everyone else orders, and nothing big happens until Cooper comes back, positively staggering under the giant dish things holding their food. Blaine feels petty satisfaction for a moment.

He almost slams their food down, breathing heavily. "Goddamn, that's heavy."

The dishes get taken in a flurry of hands, occasionally being exchanged without a second thought, in a way that only people who've known each other for years can do. The food is passed around so often and rapidly that soon, Cooper can't keep up with the very tame, almost food fight-ish lunch, mainly due to the fact food is usually given to the wrong people with badly held chopsticks, producing even more of a commotion as it's passed off to the right person.

Cooper is slumped over Blaine's chair, trying to give his tried muscles a rest when he cocks an ear toward the ceiling.

He shushes Santana when she tries to say something, making her hiss that she's going to 'cut that bitch.' It doesn't help when Wes cheekily asks if Cooper would technically be a bastard. They're both shushed by Cooper again.

"Please tell I'm not the only one who hears Blaine and Kurt coming from the speakers." he asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

There's silence as everyone stops, mid-sentence, to listen to the music they've managed to tune out with their loud hubbub.

"Baby, you'd freeze out there..." comes floating from the speakers, prolonging the 'e' in freeze. Excited exclamations are muffled as they listen to the next line.

Kurt's voice drifts out next, "Say, lend me a coat..."

And they explode into talking and laughter, teasing the somewhat mortified couple. The couple is being called out on blackmail their traitorous friends have accumulated over the years and the two are forced into singing along. After starting out-very, very reluctantly-Kurt and Blaine get into the spirit and their voices are so much better in real life. Wes and David's three years of Warbler harmonizing suddenly arise from their dormant state and they find themselves semi-unconsciously replacing the background music the speakers provid with 'da's and 'doo's as everyone else claps along. Of course, it's not as impressive as it was 8 years ago, without the arsenal of Warblers behind them, but Wes is still proud, because they sound pretty damn good.

Afterwards, Blaine turns to Cooper, puzzled. "Why on earth is your restaurant playing Christmas music in May?"

Cooper opens his mouth. He doesn't get anything out.

"Who cares?" Finn asks, panicking. "Our food's getting cold!" He then proceeds to shove food into his mouth, whether it be from his plate or not.

"Finn," Cooper threatens, "I can potentially ruin your life. Do not ever interrupt me again."

Finn pales, the glass of Sprite halfway to his lips.

"How can you...?" Sam trails off.

Cooper takes a deep breath, a glint in his eye. "Well, the first time I met Kurt, he was-"

On the table, Blaine covers his head with his arms, whimpering. Kurt frantically covers Cooped's mouth.

Santana smirks, "Do you even try to keep it on your pants?"

"Do you mean his pockets?" Brittany asks, wide-eyed and innocent toward Santana.

Pratik hums softly, "I'm not that innocent..."

He hums the rest innocuously as two pairs of eyes turn to glare at him.

"Cooper!" A voice from the kitchen slices through the air, her broken English making most of the words hard to understand. "Come here now! I don't pay you to stand around all day!"

Cooper straightens so fast Blaine half expects him to cripple back down with backlash as his brother scurries over to the closed doors, looking much like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"Must be a scary woman." Kurt comments, always on the same page as Blaine.

"Like Wes's mom." he replies, a mischeivious glint in his eye.

Wes sticks his tongue out. "My mom is terrifying, thank you."

Blaine snorts in a very undapper fashion. "Dude. Your mom is like, five foot nothing. Five foot one, at the most. You're, what? Six foot two?"

"Five foot nine. David's six foot two. Besides, my mom is like, a hundred feet of terror in a five foot body."

"It's true," David pipes up. "She terrified me when we were little. Which is why most of our time was spent at my house."

"She still terrifies you."

"There is an unnecessary over usage of the word 'terror' in this conversation," Kurt muses.

Tins stretches, rising from her seat. "I'm done."

Everyone murmurs their agreement and splits the check evenly without too much disagreement, and are soon out the door, ridden down with boxes full of leftovers.

The boxes are dumped unceremoniously in the back, and everyone just kinda lounges against the car.

"What now?" Tina yawns, resting her head on Mike's shoulder.

A pause as they collectively freeze.

"...Walk?" Finn suggests.

Kurt looks at him skeptically. "Through New York?"

He has a right to be that way; New York is huge and crammed full with people everywhere, sidewalks, buildings, buses, everywhere. The eleven of them would get separated in an instant.

"Central Park?" Blaine offers.

"...Yes, let's." Rachel says decisively.

There, everyone drifts every which way. Brittany and Santana disappear and Kurt has a pretty good idea what they're doing. Wes's pushing David on a tire swing, making David swing his legs childishly as both laugh. The pair's not too far from where Puck and Finn are sprawled on the grass, swearing at Puck's game of Angry Birds. Well, Puck's swearing. Finn's trying to give him advice. Rachel's completely out of it, snoring in Tina's lap as she giggles over something with Mercedes. Mike is showing off his high school dance moves to a few starstruck kids, who who are attempting to replicate them. It's quite adorable.

Sam appears to be having a rather heated discussion with particularly stubborn girl. Kurt catches Sam saying, 'I told you, I'm not Ross Lynch!' He watches her head off, disappointedly.

He sees Pratik strumming his guitar as Harry happily belts the words to the song on a picnic tablecloth they'd seemingly conjured from nowhere.

Then he just stops looking because his head is in Blaine's lap and he knows he should bring himself to care about his perfectly coiffed hair but he's feeling so lazy and boneless and the way Blaine's stroking through Kurt's hair feels _so good-_and why on earth did he want to move in the first place?

He snuggles even further into Blaine's lap to escape the patches of sunlight shining through the canopy of leaves they're under, making Blaine's stomach vibrate with laughter.

There's a certain serenity at the park, despite the roaring cars and the crackling energy in the park that only comes from so many people who are alive, so unlike the people who walk across the street with harried expressions. If Kurt didn't know better, he wouldn't think that these bursting-at-the-seams-with-energy humans were the same as the ones who glanced at everything in their way with annoyance.

Kurt hums at the way Blaine is working his magic fingers and almost dozes off when a frisbee smacks the tree Blaine's leaning against, missing his face by a smidgen.

Blaine jumps violently, and Kurt slides off his lap with a displeased noise. Kurt picks up the red disc of death that has nearly ruined his boyfriend's ridiculously perfect face and briefly contemplates flinging it into the ridiculously clear and glassy pond (seriously. He could see the bottom of the pond. No pond was naturally that clean.), before two flushed girls come running up to them.

"Sorry!" one squeals.

"'Specially if it hit you!" the other adds.

Kurt wordlessly hands the thing over to them, deciding that glaring at them would be too juvenile and semi-unprovoked.

"S'okay," Blaine assures, flashing them his signature smile that melts mere humans into mush. They both blush, and take the frisbee out of Kurt's hand. Kurt smiles at them, and they both redden a little more.

Kurt surreptitiously squeezes Blaine's hand for a fraction of a second, signaling the start of their favorite pastime. They have a game, where if a girl who's obviously smitten with Blaine or Kurt (usually Blaine) approaches them, they shamelessly lead her on and flirt a little. Is it odd? Yes. Is it extremely off for Blaine's gentlemanly soul? Quite so. Is it mean? Absolutely. But Kurt couldn't have an very hot, very gay boyfriend and not have a little fun with the girls he manages to unintentionally flock to his side. Kurt's frankly surprised that Blaine decided to help him lead the girls on. There are things even Kurt has yet to unravel from the enigma that is Blaine Anderson.

"It's okay," Blaine says, almost unconsciously putting a subtle smouldering look on his face.

Kurt smiles brightly, stretching out his long frame. It stretches out his shirt, showing off the outlines of the muscles he'd developed over the years. Kurt pretends to miss the way one of the girl's eyes linger on his arms. "I was getting kinda stiff, anyway."

They chat a little more, until the two decide to go back to their frisbee game, blushing, Kurt and Blaine note with satisfaction, profusely.

"Oh, god, Lizzie." one whispers as they walk away. "The one looking like porcelain? So pretty! Like an angel!"

The other-Lizzie-replies, "Yeah, but his friend! He almost killed me!"

Both shriek a bit, before dissolving into giggles.

Kurt and Blaine smirk at each other. Everyone else, who've managed to sneak up on them, snicker at the girls, who have already disappeared behind a couple of trees.

"Y'all are shameless," Mercedes informs them cheerfully.

Kurt and Blaine link hands, pressing their lips together.

"Why do the gay ones always get the girls?" Finn complains, pouting.

"Looks?" Blaine says offhandedly, separating his lips from Kurt's.

Wes opens his mouth to say something.

"Don't. Whatever you say won't be funny." David warns. Wes closes his mouth sulkily, because, screw David, he's funny.

"Hygiene?" Kurt quips as a guess when everyone looks at him.

Everyone simultaniously eyes Puck and Finn, who've been rolling around in the dirt, for Puck's phone, Kurt assumes, judging by the way Puck's possessively clutching it.

Finn shrugs, "Got me there."

Blaine stifles a snort in Kurt's shoulder.

They last one... two... three seconds before dissolving into merry laughter.

* * *

At the end of the day, Kurt and Blaine are snuggled in their bed, bare skin pressing together because, really. They gave up on sleepwear a long time ago.

"That was fun," Kurt murmurs as Blaine's chest rises and falls comfortingly against his back.

Blaine hums. "T'was."

There's silence before Blaine declares randomly, "I love you."

Kurt snorts, "I know, honey."

"Good," Blaine nuzzles against the nape of his neck. "Because I'm going to say it forever."

Kurt smiles, "That's fine by me," he quips.

Blaine's breathing becomes more relaxed and steady, and he's almost unconscious when Kurt reaches back and brushes a curl to the side, whispering, "I love you too. So much, you don't even know."

"Oh, but I do," Blaine murmurs back.

He falls asleep with the sound of Kurt's laugh as his lullabye.

* * *

***My spellcheck made that into punches, so I got this picture of Kurt punching Cooper in his nose. XD Uncalled for, Kurt. He's just there to make this experience all the more embarrassing.**

***whistle* Longest. One-shot. Ever.**

**...I didn't plan for Santana to say the things Santana said. That...sorta wrote itself.**

**I used a couple POVs in this. Kurt, Blaine, even Wes for like, a sentence or two. I feel impressed.**

**Fluff, New Directions, and Santana shipping Klaine in her twisted way. What's not to like? **

**Review and tell me what you think!**

**Music, out. :)**


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